There is a shallow ocean in everyone's heart, where all the sadness and happiness are condensed into poems; everyone has a dream in which there is an impossible her standing under the blue sky and white clouds. Love is like a cigarette. A cigarette takes only a few seconds from lighting to burnout. Every second of release is a sad song and movement in love. If you burn once, love will be deep once; if you love deeply, you will be disillusioned. When the cigarette reached the end, it could no longer be lit. Then how to let go, the two people who once loved each other have long been scattered around the world, each on their own. After the rain, the air was filled with the sweetness of the wet soil; it reverberated with a slightly intoxicating fragrance. Sitting by the shallow stream, I looked at the phantom reflection in the water with tearful eyes; the little ripples on the stream opened the only concern in my heart, and rippled on all sides of the narrow lake. In an instant, all the strength on the face slipped; the fragility in the heart haunted the cross section under the tip of the pen, so that the handwriting began to be dyed into flowers.
Two years ago, I watched the back of your departure fade away; only the alley that broke up, accompanied me with red eyes in the countless tossing and turning in the middle of the night, both sides lost. Yes, no one can stop the slippage of time; there is always bright sadness hidden in the sun, falling into war in the moment of rain. No one can stop the light steps of time, maybe I will stay on the street corner where I first met; waiting for you to pass by again. But the memory with you is lingering and unforgettable. I always thought I was strong enough to bury everything quietly in the bottom of my heart. But suddenly found that there is a weak heart in everyone's heart; it and strong always in the opposite situation, its appearance is behind the unknown, tears alone.
The depth of missing can be wound in the tip of the fingers, following her on the west bank of the painting building; the sound of the rebound pipa is leisurely away. I still miss you all the time, thinking of you so thoroughly and helplessly; sometimes I look at myself in the mirror and think of the red makeup you painted around me; there is a tear in the corner of my eye that fills the wine glass before the table for me; accompany me drunk in your gentle countryside, can not wake up. Sometimes I look up at the night sky, in the dark night of meteors; I can't shout your name in front of the sparks all over the sky, not because I don't remember, but because love has long been completely annihilated by the tide of missing. In the past two years of separation, I will firmly remember, remember the happiness and happiness when you came; the loneliness and sadness when you left, and the future that I went down alone with a little bit of love; but I could not desolate the willow Yiyi in my memories.
Your shallow smile is still lingering above the three inches of my heart; I close my eyes quietly and listen to the yearning tone of the twilight wind blowing calmly in the corner of my ear; I think this is about the longest wandering in love.
Author: withering secretly